Extra Chapter 22 – Journey to the Moon Temple (POV Rhydian)
The wind howled through the towering cliffs, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and ancient stone. The path ahead was narrow, carved into the mountain by hands long forgotten. Beside me, Luna clutched our daughter tightly to her chest, her cloak drawn close to protect the baby from the night's chill.
I walked a step ahead, leading the way toward the temple that loomed above us, its white marble walls gleaming under the moonlight.
The Temple of the Moon.
A place of legend. A place of power. And tonight, the only place where I hoped to find answers.
Luna shifted closer. "Are you sure about this?" Her voice was soft but laced with uncertainty.
I glanced at her, my grip tightening on the hilt of my sword. "I have to be."
She studied me for a moment, then nodded. We had been through too much for her to question my instincts now.
The temple doors were massive, adorned with intricate carvings of lunar cycles and celestial symbols. As we approached, they creaked open on their own, as if the temple had been expecting us.
Inside, the air was thick with the scent of incense and something older—something divine.
At the center of the vast chamber stood an altar of smooth obsidian, reflecting the pale glow of the moonlight that filtered through the open ceiling above. And beyond the altar, waiting in the shadows, stood a figure draped in silver robes.
The High Priest of the Moon.
His face was obscured by the hood of his robes, but when he spoke, his voice was like the shifting tides—calm yet unyielding.
"You have come seeking blessings," he said. "But also, answers."
I exhaled sharply. "Yes."
He stepped forward, his movements slow, deliberate. His gaze fell upon my daughter, and I felt an overwhelming urge to step between them, to shield her from whatever unseen forces he wielded.
Luna must have sensed my tension because she placed a hand on my arm. A silent reassurance.
The priest lifted a hand, gesturing toward the altar. "Place the child here."
My body stiffened. "Why?"
"For the blessing to be complete, she must be bathed in the moon's light."
Luna hesitated, looking at me.
Everything in me screamed against it—against placing my daughter on a cold slab of stone under the watchful gaze of a deity I had never fully understood.
But I had brought us here for a reason.
Swallowing hard, I nodded at Luna. She stepped forward, gently placing our daughter onto the altar. The baby stirred but did not wake, as if lulled by some unseen force.
The priest raised his arms, murmuring in a language older than the kingdom itself. The symbols carved into the walls pulsed with soft, silvery light, and the moon above seemed to shine brighter, its glow focused directly onto our child.
I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to move.
Then, the priest's voice changed. His words became heavier, resonating through my bones.
"A child born under the shadow of war, yet destined to bring peace."
I stiffened.
"She will walk the path of her ancestors, but carve her own destiny."
Luna exhaled sharply beside me.
"The blood of rulers runs through her veins, but it is the fire of her heart that will define her reign."
My heart pounded.
Then, the priest fell silent. The light dimmed. And our daughter, still sleeping, let out the softest sigh.
Luna rushed forward, scooping her into her arms, holding her close.
I stepped toward the priest, my voice rough. "What does it mean?"
He lowered his hood, revealing eyes as pale as the moon itself. "It means that the choices you make now, Rhydian, will shape not just your kingdom—but the future of all who follow."
I swallowed, the weight of his words pressing into my chest.
For so long, I had fought for my people, for my kingdom. But this was different.
This was about my family.
My daughter's fate was not written in stone. But my choices—our choices—would shape the world she grew up in.
I turned to Luna, finding her already watching me, her gaze steady, unwavering.
We had fought together, ruled together, and now, we would raise our child together.
I looked back at the priest. "Then we will ensure she has a future worth fighting for."
He nodded, as if he had expected that answer all along.
The temple doors creaked open once more, the night air rushing in. The blessing had been given. The prophecy had been spoken.
And as I led my family back into the darkness, back down the winding mountain path, I knew one thing with certainty.
No matter what the future held—I would never let anything take them from me.